Authors: Lauren Dawes
Rhett stalked into the living room to find the alpha from the Dragos clan sitting on a dining room chair dragged into the middle of the ancient rug. If his pack was America, then the Dragos pack were Russia during the Cold War. Behind him were his beta and the pack’s captain of the enforcers. The alpha of the Dragos clan was a distant cousin of Rhett’s. He’d only met Marcus a handful of times, but he was one ruthless sonofabitch. He had the same dark hair as Rhett, but it was streaked with white along the sides. The beta, Conall, was an asshole. He’d fought his way up through the ranks, humiliating the challengers once he had taken their lives by defiling their bodies. Wolves didn’t have to kill to assert dominance, but Conall took some sort of sick pleasure in it. The captain, Leona, was the only female enforcer that Rhett knew of, but she was just as ruthless as any male.
‘Rhett,’ his alpha said in a low voice. Rhett’s eyes swung around to find Antain sitting on another dining room chair flanked by Vaile and Sabel. Antain was trying hard to contain his power, but Rhett felt the brushings of pinpricks on his skin.
Rhett swallowed thickly. ‘Uncle, what’s going on?’ Alphas from other packs just didn’t come around for a cup of coffee and a chat.
‘We heard you are the Guardian for the félvair. Is that true?’ Marcus said, drawing Rhett’s attention away from his alpha.
Rhett swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘Yes,’ he replied, keeping his eyes on the ground to stop Marcus from seeing the flash of hatred in his eyes.
‘Well, that’s very interesting. I spoke to the Seer and she told me she was first found on our territory, which means she rightfully belongs to us.’
Rhett looked up at the alpha with a lethal glare. Trust that fucker to try and find a loop hole to exploit. ‘You cannot have her,’ he growled, surprised by his conviction.
Marcus smiled, revealing sharp canines. ‘Take care Whelp, or I will be forced to remind you of your position,’ he rumbled with his wolf’s voice. ‘My relation to you will give you no help.’ That barb was meant for his uncle, and Antain didn’t disappoint by unleashing his power briefly. Rhett gritted his teeth through the onslaught of pins and needles across his bare skin.
‘The Seer already bound me to her,’ he ground out when he could speak again.
‘And you think that you can look after her properly? She is so very important to our species that I cannot allow
you
to be her Guardian. She is rightfully ours, and you will bring her to us.’
Another growl vibrated through Rhett’s chest. ‘She is not a piece of property you can own,’ he snarled.
‘But she is Rhett. She is a necessity to the species and she will be used as such.’
Blinding rage rippled through Rhett’s body. Indi belonged to nobody …
but him
. He shook his head and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t be thinking this way about her. He scrubbed a hand down his face to erase the thought that was still lingering. It was true that Indi was going to help the species, but Marcus’ pack was sadistic. They would drain her dry and throw her away like she was nothing at all. At least she would be safe with him. He wouldn’t let any harm come to her.
The reason félvair were so precious to werewolves was because they could force a female wolf to have only female pups with any mating. Right now, only one in ten children born were female. The pack was dominated by males, with only three females spread through the ranks of the pack. With a donation of Indi’s blood though, it would guarantee the sex of the baby to be female which meant repopulating the pack so it would be strong again.
Rhett looked up to gauge Leona’s reaction. If the Dragos pack took Indi, she’d be out of the job and forced to pop out as many pups as her body would allow. Her face was carefully held in neutral, but the longer he looked at her he noticed the slight tick at the corner of her mouth.
Marcus drawled, ‘I will have her Rhett. You
will
give her to me.’
Rhett glared at him. ‘I answer to nobody but my alpha, Marcus.’ His heart was pounding in his ear, his protective instincts on high-fucking-alert. Rhett wouldn’t allow anyone near her.
‘You wanted to ask him yourself and you got your answer Marcus,’ Antain said over Rhett’s shoulder.
‘You should bring him to heel Antain. He is unruly and disrespectful.’ Marcus spoke the words to Antain, but his eyes were fixed on Rhett. Protocol called for Rhett to drop his eyes, but ambivalence was settling heavily in his gut.
Antain said, ‘He is who he is. What more do you expect from someone who has been kicked down all his life. He’s a pariah in his own pack,’ he added, his voice sounding tired.
‘Your devotion to him makes you weak Antain. Any weakness in a pack is bad, but when the alpha is responsible for it—well, let’s just say that it makes for easy pickings.’
‘Don’t presume to think that my pack is weak Marcus. Presumptions could get you killed,’ Antain snarled back, lifting himself out of his chair.
Marcus growled low and fast, making Leona step forward; her hand hovering over the butt of the gun at her hip. ‘Is that a threat?’ she asked. Human weapons were frowned upon by werewolves unless the werewolf was Bitten, and then old habits died hard. Rhett much preferred to fight with fur and teeth.
‘Of course not. I’m just giving your alpha a few words of warning.’ He turned his attention back to Marcus. ‘Take them if you will, or not. It doesn’t matter to me.’
‘Are you really going to let him be responsible for such a precious resource?’ Marcus spat.
‘And what resource are you talking about Marcus?’ Rhett asked.
‘The félvair,’ he gritted out.
‘She’s not just a resource Marcus.’
‘And tell me dear cousin, what else is she?’
Rhett bit his tongue, knowing that his eyes would be slipping in colour. There was just too much temptation in a room like this. As he was turning to leave, Marcus added, ‘He should have been killed at birth with that defect of his. What if he passes on those genes to the next generation?’
Sabel snarled, ‘No self respecting female would ever take him as a mate. Besides, we have taken care of that already,’ Sabel sneered. Rhett’s balls tightened at the tone, his body remembering exactly how they’d taken care of that particular problem. They’d given him a vasectomy against his will. “For the good of the pack,” they’d said. His uncle couldn’t even help him. With the threat of death hanging over his head, there were rules and they had to be followed; expulsion from the pack and certain death or the snip. What a fucking joke. His anger and resentment rolled and writhed in his mind, and he did nothing to stop it. What he really needed was to punch something. Rhett stalked out of the room and down to the cellar.
Rhett’s head was pounding with the rush of adrenalin. Sweat beaded on his brow, his knuckles covered in blood. Imperfect imprints of his fists covered the punching bag he was pounding into; visualising Marcus and Sabel’s faces in the leather.
Left jab, right straight, left hook, duck.
Sweat ran down his face, stinging his eyes. He threw the same combo at the bag, hitting harder and making the chain attached to the rafter rattle.
Fucking cock-sucking Dragos wolves
.
Fucking Marcus
.
‘What’s crawled up your butt?’ a voice asked from behind him. With one more punch landing on the boxing bag, Rhett held it still—ignoring the scream of his knuckles—and turned around to stare at his best friend.
Brax was a new wolf to the pack, and by new he meant that he had reached maturity and moved away from his home pack to either find another or start his own. Rhett would never do that. He would never leave this farmhouse. He would never leave Buxton. And although he was strong enough to be an alpha, no wolf would pledge themselves to him.
‘Nothing,’ he growled, dancing back onto his toes as he landed another jab to Sabel’s smug mouth. The beam above his head groaned with the weight of the bag as it rocked back and forth. The cellar where the bag had been set up was surrounded by other gym equipment. His uncle had thought that it would help to keep the males focussed if they had something to do other than try and chase tail or get into fights. At the far end of the room was a small bathroom under the stairs and opposite that was a werewolf-proof cage just in case.
‘That’s not what I heard,’ Brax said in a sing-song voice, descending the stairs. ‘I heard that Marcus came to see you.’
‘Marcus,’ Rhett sneered, ‘is an asshole.’
Brax stalked around to the other side of the bag to hold it steady, his grey eyes slipping to neon yellow then back again. ‘You’re right. He is an asshole. So what did he want?’
He landed another punch, accidently knocking Brax off balance. ‘Indi,’ Rhett ground out, hating how his voice transformed into a growl. Brax dragged the bag out of Rhett’s reach just as he was about to land another punch, making him lose momentum. He staggered back a step to avoid clocking his best friend in the jaw.
Brax frowned. ‘Indi?’ he asked.
‘He wants her; claims that the Seer found her in his territory.’
‘Did she?’
Rhett wiped the sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘Yeah, but she settled in Hell. That’s our territory.’
‘What does Antain have to say about it?’
‘He let me make the call.’
Brax whistled through his teeth. ‘If you weren’t the Alpha’s only blood relation left you would have had no say at all, you know that?’
‘I know,’ Rhett replied through gritted teeth. He hated the double standard that existed in the pack. His uncle did him favours that no other wolf received, but he was also attacked because of the privilege. All the other wolves in the pack hated him with Sabel leading the
We-want-Rhett’s-head-mounted-on-a-wall
fan club. His aunt, uncle and Brax were the only friends he had. He punched the bag in frustration, the chains chattering to life again. Fuck this semi-charmed life.
‘Soooo, what are you going to do?’
Rhett stared hard into Brax’s eyes before lashing out with a lethal ten punch combination. When he was done, he licked his lips and took a long drink from the bottle of Gatorade to get his thoughts together. What was he going to do? He was going to stick so close to Indi that she’d start thinking she had two shadows.
‘I’m going to protect what’s mine.’ He felt the power of his words resonate through his body, empowering the truth in them. This was what he wanted. He wanted to be her Guardian. If anyone else was doing the job, he would have thought that they weren’t working hard enough, not being vigilant enough. No, if he wanted something done right, then he was going to do it himself.
‘Yeah, I know that, but how?’
‘I’ll up patrols, find excuses to just drop by. I’ll work more hours at the café. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure she stays safe.’
‘You know that Marcus isn’t going to let this go. He wants her and he’ll do everything in his power to get her.’
‘He’ll have to go through me to do it then,’ Rhett said, seething because what Brax had said was absolutely true. Marcus wouldn’t just roll over and let Indi go. He would keep fighting, but so would Rhett.
‘Baby batter,’ Sabel called from the stairs. Rhett swung around just as Sabel stepped off the final tread.
‘Fuck you Sabel,’ he snarled back.
He laughed. ‘You wish you could. You’re coming with me.’
‘What for?’
‘Grave digging duty.’
‘Just put it in the incinerator,’ Rhett snapped back, lifting his bloodied fists up to Brax to let him know he was going to hit the bag again. He was playing a dangerous game by giving Sabel his back, and his captain didn’t disappoint. The next time Sabel spoke, it was right in his ear.
‘Listen up fuck-cake because I’m only saying this once. Get your ass outside
now
.’
‘The ground is frozen. You can’t dig through that.’
‘I don’t fucking care. Outside now, and that’s an order,’ Sabel hissed.
Rhett watched Brax’s face carefully. His eyes were slipping colours so fast that it made his stomach turn. His rage was still pummelling his body, and the bag just wasn’t cutting it. What he really needed was a good, old-fashioned fistfight to calm him down and guess who just volunteered. Rhett dropped his fists and stepped away from the bag, snagging his bottle of Gatorade and his shirt from in between the bars of the cage in the corner of the room.
‘You’re an asshole. Do you know that?’ he said to Sabel, shouldering past him to the stairs. He stalked up them and pushed through the door, heading towards the back door of the house. The barn behind the house was already spot-lit when he walked out there. Rhett was going to enjoy this. By the time he reached the barn door, he sensed that Sabel was behind him.
‘You insubordinate little fuck!’ Rhett spun around and met him—face to face, chest to chest. His wolf wanted out, raking at his sides and baring its teeth. Rhett could feel his control slipping, wanting to give into the bloodlust that was bubbling just below the surface of his skin.
‘What are you going to do about it?’ Rhett baited. Sabel’s forearm came across Rhett’s throat as he slammed him into the side of the barn; instantly cutting off his supply of air.
‘I’ve wanted to kill you for so long, do you know that?’
Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner
. ‘Why don’t you do it then?’
He eased off Rhett’s neck. ‘I won’t hang for something as pathetic as you,’ he replied, spitting on the ground at Rhett’s feet.
‘You want a legitimate reason to have a shot at me? Fine. I challenge you to your position in the pack.’ The force of ancient pack magic rushed over them both. Saying those words were sacred and dangerous and never to be taken lightly.